


Cookies and Kisses

by bettydice (BettyKnight)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Cookie Dough, I'm fond of tropey shitty christmas rom-coms but they're all too straight, Kissing, M/M, Unresolved Sexual Tension, not a lot of smut but some dick touching, so I wrote this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-05
Updated: 2019-12-05
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:35:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21686119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BettyKnight/pseuds/bettydice
Summary: Harry is baking christmas cookies and Draco really can't take this anymore.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 2
Kudos: 120





	Cookies and Kisses

Fuck Potter and his devious refusal to use magic for those things, and _only_ those things, that Draco would find sexually arousing. It was calculated, that much was certain. Who in their right mind would go and chop wood in the snow, muscles straining under their tight shirt, when they were able to take care of that with a wave of their wand? Why go through the trouble of baking cookies and get your hands so dirty that you had to lick dough off your fingers if not for the sole purpose of making it difficult for Draco to be in the same room without his pants becoming a little tight? Why not use bloody magic to put up fairy lights everywhere, so Draco didn’t have to suffer watching Potter’s ugly sweater rise up and reveal a patch of inviting skin? 

Draco had put up with all of this and more for no good reason and he’d had enough. Enough of Potter inviting him over for breakfast, lunch and dinner every day just because the lonely cottage Draco had decided he wanted to escape to for a couple of weeks belonged to none other than fucking Harry Potter, who bloody lived next fucking door. _‘Cozy, secluded country cottage, ideal to recharge yourself away from your busy life.’_ False fucking advertising!

Enough of spending his evenings in Potter’s living room, on Potter’s couch, sharing wine and words and lingering looks.

Enough of having to return to his empty bed every night and furiously wank to thoughts of fucking Harry.

“You want to taste?”

The nerve of this man. The nerve! Standing there in his kitchen, in a reindeer apron, smiling and offering Draco a spoonful of his vanilla and cinnamon-scented cookie dough, flour on his cheek the cherry on top of this cursed image.

“No, I really don’t want to have a taste of what I am to understand is not the finished product.”

“But eating the dough is the best part of making cookies!”

“Then why not just make dough and leave the cookies.”

“The smell! It’ll smell so good, Draco, just wait!”

“There are spells for that. Potter, I’ve been watching you ‘bake’ for twenty minutes now and you’ve yet to convince me that this is a useful way to spend your time _ampfhh_ -”

The rest of his justified rant was muffled by a _spoon full of cookie dough in his mouth!_ Harry had left him no choice but to eat this sticky stuff and it was… well, it wasn’t horrible. One might even say that it tasted like a gentle embrace in front of a fireplace, if one were inclined to do so. But one wasn’t. Draco simply swallowed while glaring at Harry, who was laughing so hard he had to hold on to the kitchen table for support. Absolute wanker that he was.

And of course, _of course_ , Harry put his hand on a batch of cookie dough shaped like various things that had no business sharing a baking tray - reindeers, candy canes and some kind of winged ghost ( _angels,_ whatever) - and again his fingers were covered with dough. Disgusting. 

“Ah, bollocks,” was all Harry had to say, grinning sheepishly as he lifted his hand to his mouth and no, Draco was _not_ going to sit and watch this, not again!

“I swear to bloody Merlin and Morgana, you’re the most insufferable-” Draco got up and grabbed Harry’s wrist before he could start fellating his fingers again. “You’re a bloody wizard, the most powerful of this generation according to every other article about you and yet all you do is _lick_ and _chop_ and _stretch_ and my patience has run out, Potter, this has to stop and-” 

Draco put Harry’s finger in his mouth and licked off the dough. And then froze.

“Oh.” Harry blinked, frozen as well. 

His finger was still in Draco’s mouth and the dough tasted really good and he needed to come up with a reasonable explanation for his actions right this second. He pulled Harry’s finger from his mouth with all the grace he could muster and then glared, because it was the first facial expression that came to his mind.

“Uhm, I guess you really liked the dough after all?”

Harry’s laugh had a slight hysterical edge and he was staring at Draco in a way that was both terribly confused and weirdly hopeful.

“Yes, well, I suppose that’s the explanation we’re going with.”

“Is there, uh, is there another explanation?”

Harry tilted his head and then his eyes darted to his pointer finger, the fairy lights making it glitter, because it was _wet_ , from Draco’s _spit,_ because he had _sucked_ on it.

“What other explanation for this could there possibly be, Potter?”

“You tell me!”

“I just told you!”

“No, that was _my_ guess.”

“Well, that’s your explanation then!”

“What?”

“Must I repeat everything?”

Draco was beginning to sweat. Anxiety started bubbling up in him that Harry would _know_ , would know that Draco spent a lot of their shared time having very impure thoughts and some that went even beyond the purely sexual, entering an emotional territory that was supposed to be off limits for Harry Potter. But Potter had never been held back by closed doors, private property or threats to his life, why should he start now?

The evidence was still there between them, glinting and wet and a part of him was telling him that the best way to distract Harry was to get on his knees and suck on another appendage. A compelling idea, and yet…

“Draco?” 

Harry inched closer, which really didn’t help with the sweating situation. Or the anxiety.

And then Harry slowly moved his hand to the table, hovered over one of the cookie ghosts, made sure that Draco was watching - not like he could look away - slid his finger through the dough and then lifted his hand again until his finger was in front of Draco’s face. In front of his lips. 

Draco stared at Harry, lips moving quietly, helpless. Harry returned the stare, a hint of insecurity in his eyes but the rest of his face full of determination. A question. A dare.

Draco had never been good at ignoring Harry’s dares.

He grabbed Harry’s wrist again and then, without breaking eye contact, opened his mouth and _sucked_ on Harry’s finger.

For a moment, it was as if time had stopped.

And then there was no time for sentimental musings about what kind of time existed at this moment, because suddenly Harry was kissing him. Intense, gentle-embrace-in-front-of-fire flavoured kisses that made it hard to breathe but that didn’t matter, because who needed air when there were kisses to be had.

He felt his back hit the wall; apparently they had moved. It was hard to tell with his eyes closed and all his senses focused on tasting Harry, his hands busy with trying to take off that stupid apron. 

Harry did stop kissing him for a moment then, laughed and waved his hand and then they were both naked. Draco couldn’t believe it.

“You can do _wandless_ magic and yet you don’t use it to chop your fucking wood?”

Even being able to catch a glimpse of Harry’s half-hard cock was not enough to dampen his incredulity.

“I find it calming and it’s good exercise!”

“Good ex- are you shitting me?”

“You seemed to like it, too.”

Harry’s smile turned very, very smug and then he pressed himself against Draco, probably to remind him that maybe there were more urgent matters at hand and Draco was indeed very eager to get to the part where their cocks would come into play and oh, Harry was kissing his neck, that was very nice indeed, but first…

“I knew it was deliberate! I knew it! You just wanted to seduce me! From the first day, you were trying to entice me with your bending over and stretching and putting things in your mouth!”

Harry was laughing against his shoulder, his breath hot on his skin and his fingers tightening on Draco’s arse (when had they gotten there?). Just another one of his sly seduction manoeuvres. 

“Yes, yes, you caught me. I’ve wanted you from the first moment you stepped into my house with that hilarious glare on your face.” Harry’s lips were moving up his neck and then he was mouthing along his jaw and _oh_ , there was _grinding_ and a finger that darted between his arse cheeks. “Simply had to seduce you. Had to have you.” Harry’s other hand closed around both their cocks and there was a possibility that Draco let out a _whine_.

“Well, it seems you, ah, succeeded.” 

“I have you?”

Harry licked Draco’s lower lip and then looked intently at him, waiting for his answer. Despite the fact that Harry’s hand was still working their cocks and his other hand was _exploring_ , there was a tenderness in his eyes that… It was hard to ignore. Impossible.

“You have me.”

It was a confession, but so was Harry’s smile.


End file.
